Afternoon Muse
by tiffanized
Summary: Bella Swan has writer's block while finishing up the last book in her erotic "Isabella" series. She goes back to Forks to get away from her stagnant life in Phoenix and finds inspiration in her gorgeous and much younger neighbor Edward Cullen.
1. Rewrites

**Author's Note: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight; I'm just grateful to be able to play with her beautiful characters. Never any copyright infringement intended.**

**Also, this is my very, very first fan fiction. I hope you enjoy it.**

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_Bella's POV_

"The publisher wants re-writes," Esme said, dropping the bound manuscript on the desk.

"What? No, Esme, no way," I complained. I'd spent the better part of two years writing this, my last book, and I wanted to be shut of it. I'd been doing re-writes for six months, and thought that if I had to spend any more time on them, I'd gouge my eyes out with my pen.

"I agree with them, Bella. It's just not up to the _Isabella_ series standards." Esme leaned over gently, her soft light brown hair falling into her eyes. "It's not the story that's the problem, you know."

"I know," I sighed. "It's the sex." Until recently, I'd made a very good living writing the erotic fiction novels that bore my first name. I didn't want to do it anymore. I wanted to write something real and compelling, something I could put my last name on, something my mother could read. My heart wasn't in the erotica anymore, and it reflected in my writing.

"The good news is that the publisher is giving you two more months before they sue you for breach of contract," she smiled brightly. Esme was an eternal optimist. As a writer, I was lucky to have an agent like her on my side. Publishing was a cutthroat business, and Esme was my shining beacon and in many ways my second mother.

"I don't think time is the issue here," I replied.

"What is the issue, Bella?"

I felt myself flush a little, so I looked down at the manuscript. "I don't think I know how to write sex anymore."

Esme tapped her pencil against the side of her desk. "So Isabella, the highest grossing author of erotica in history, doesn't know how to write sex anymore?"

"I think I've forgotten what sex is like, Esme."

She threw her head back and laughed heartily. "Forgotten? How do you forget sex, Bella?"

"I haven't had sex in over two years. That's how I forgot." I didn't mean to be short with her, but damn, _I hadn't had sex in over two years_.

Esme didn't laugh at this. "Maybe you just need to get out of Phoenix," she suggested. "Do you still have Charlie's place up in Washington?"

I nodded. I hadn't been to the house in Forks since my father was killed, but I couldn't bring myself to sell the place. I had been born there, had lived there as a teenager, and it was Charlie's house. I couldn't part with it.

"Why don't you take your laptop, pack your sweaters, and head up North? You can send me the re-writes by e-mail as you get them done. That will keep the wolves at bay." Esme smiled, lighting up her heart shaped face and making me feel instantly better.

"Okay, Esme." I grabbed the handle of my bag and stood up from the chair. "I'll send you the details once I've gotten my travel straightened out."

As I turned to leave, Esme called to me, "Oh, and Bella?"

"Yes?"

"Get laid while you're there."

**********

After I booked my flight to Seattle, I flipped through my iPhone contacts until I found Alice's number. Alice Brandon—well, Alice Hale, now that she was married—had been my best friend in high school. She still lived in Forks with her husband Jasper, whom I'd never met. Alice and I had kept up through e-mail and phone calls, but we hadn't made much of an effort to get together. Truthfully, it was me that hadn't made the effort; I was always so busy with writing and public events that most of my personal life had fallen away. I hated the thought of being alone in Forks, though, and I wanted to see Alice as soon as possible.

She didn't say hello when she answered, but instead screamed, "Bella!" so loudly that I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"How did you know it was me? Are you psychic?" I laughed.

"Caller ID, duh," Alice said. "What's up? Getting married? Having a baby? Becoming a nun?"

"Closer to your last guess," I griped. "Actually, I'm coming up to stay in Forks for a month or two."

"For real? What for?" She sounded worried. The last time I'd been to Forks was for Charlie's funeral.

"I have to finish my novel. I kind of have writer's block. I think it might help if I'm not staring at the same four walls day in and day out."

"You'll finally get to meet Jasper," she enthused. "And oh, God, Bella, I have to take you to this boutique in Port Angeles. It's this fabulous unknown designer—she's amazing. And—"

"That's great, Alice."

She continued without seeming to need to breathe between sentences. "—I'm getting ready to redecorate the East wing of the house, I'll need your help picking out colors. When will you be here?"

"My flight leaves tomorrow morning. I will be landing at Sea-Tac at 11:30."

"I'll be there to pick you up. Look for the yellow Porsche."

"The one with the manic pixie behind the wheel?" I asked, smiling.

"That's the one!" she chirped.

I was looking forward to this already.


	2. Helping Hands

**Author's Note: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight; I'm just grateful to be able to play with her beautiful characters. Never any copyright infringement intended.**

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_Bella's POV_

Alice and I pulled up to the familiar house shortly after 3 p.m. I rummaged through my briefcase to find the legal sized manila folder with the key taped to the inside. I caught an unwelcome glimpse of a few words on the front page of the documents clipped inside: _I, Charles Swan, being of sound mind and body _. . . I'd never read the will, even though he'd been dead for nearly two years. Everything that had been Charlie's was now mine. I didn't feel lucky. I'd rather have had Charlie back.

"You okay, Bella?" Alice asked, turning her tiny face to me. Her inky hair stood out all over in its carefully messy style.

I nodded. "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

I plied the key from beneath the tape. Per usual, the sky was overcast and the afternoon was filled with a light mist. I looked up the silent green street with its modest row of small, clean houses and wondered who was peering at me from between their blinds.

Walking up to the house was a practice in _deja vu_. I felt almost like I'd never left, even though it had been twelve years since I'd claimed this as my address. My old red Chevy truck sat in the driveway, next to an empty spot where Charlie used to park his police cruiser. I guessed that was my spot now.

There was moss growing on the foundation of the house and tendrils of some viny plant curling around the columns on the porch. The siding needed to be painted. The windows needed to be cleaned. The walk up the front steps suddenly felt like a trudge. So much to do.

I unlocked the door and pushed it open to step slowly into a time warp.

Everything was so familiar and alien at the same time. The furniture was just as it had been when I'd left after high school graduation. Some of the upholstered pieces were covered with plastic sheeting, but the books sat exposed on the shelf under a thick layer of dust, and family pictures still hung on the wall. No, not family pictures really—just school pictures of me.

I felt tears burning in my eyes and a lump in my throat. I pulled the plastic off of the sofa and examined it for a moment, making sure it was clean and bug-free before I plopped down to cry. Not just cry—sob. I was totally overwhelmed.

I'm not sure how long I would have stayed there crying if Alice hadn't come in carrying my suitcase and laptop bag. "Bella?" she asked gently.

I sniffled. "Yes?"

"Let's go shopping."

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I hadn't been awake long the next morning when I heard a car in the driveway. It was probably just Alice—she'd said she might stop by to help me clean up, but I hadn't expected her so early.

When I'd opened the door, though, it wasn't Alice's yellow Porsche in my drive, but instead a little silver car. Still expensive, probably foreign too. Two figures in the front seats looked to be having a heated argument inside. The passenger side door opened and a beefy, dark haired guy got out.

He grinned when he saw me standing in the doorway. "Bella? Bella Swan?"

_Hel-lo_, I thought. He was broad-shouldered, with a soft mound of dark curls and a smirk on his face. Fucking gorgeous. "Yes. And you are?" I asked.

"I'm Emmett Cullen," he said, like it settled the matter. The name struck a chord, but I couldn't remember why. He came around the front of the car and started walking toward the house. His arms were huge. His gray t-shirt clung to his muscular chest, and his work boots made heavy crunching sounds in the gravel.

"Am I supposed to know you?" I flirted, taking another step forward on the porch. He grinned again, and I straightened up a little to make sure he could get a good look at me.

"You better get used to the name. We're neighbors now."

_Cullen_. Dr. Cullen, from across the street. Of course. Charlie had talked about him. He'd moved in not long after I'd left for college. "Sorry," I said, coming down the porch steps to meet him. "I just got in yesrerday. I'm a little—tired out." I held out my hand.

"It's alright." He shook my hand and then stood there like I should know what to do with him. He was a foot taller than me, at least.

I looked past Emmett at the other person in the car. The windows were sort of tinted, so I couldn't see if it was a man or woman, friend or foe. "Did Dr. Cullen need to see me or something?"

"Oh, no. He asked me and Edward to come over and see if you needed any help getting settled in."

"I didn't have much stuff, just a suitcase full of clothes and my laptop."

"Good thing you brought some clothes . . . I guess." Emmett gave me an appreciative once-over, and I returned the favor.

He turned to the silver car and made a hand motion. The person in the driver's seat—Edward—seemed to get out in slow motion. He had on a snug long sleeved beige shirt and a pair of jeans so dark they looked wet. The laces of his black boots were loose and untied. His hair was a mess of brown and copper and bronze, and his brow was furrowed as he walked towards us, looking at the ground. His walk was elegant, catlike. He looked sort of slight next to Emmett, but anybody would.

"This is my brother, Edward," said Emmett. Edward made no move to offer me a hand to shake, so I didn't extend mine, either. Emmett, obviously the talker of the pair, spoke up again. "Hey, Carlisle wanted to know if you wanted to come over for dinner. Since you probably haven't had a chance to get to the store yet."

I considered the offer, weighing the awkwardness of dining with virtual strangers against the exhausting task of going to the grocery store and trying to cook. That decided it. "Sure. I'll be there."

Edward looked up for the first time, and I could see his face, composed of perfect angles and shadows. His eyes under the furrowed brow were a startling shade of green. He was stunning. I'm not sure if it was him, or the slippery grass, or my innate klutziness, but I chose that exact moment to slip down the steep embankment of the yard into the ditch. For a second after I hit the ground, I thought about just staying down there to die of embarrassment.

Gentle hands had me by my upper arms pulling me from the debris-filled ditch. The hands belonged to Edward. I felt the embarrassment burning in my face as he helped me into a standing position. We stood there, face to face. "Thanks," I said quietly.

Emmett was chuckling. "Sorry, Bella. You should have seen it the way we did. You were standing there, and then, all of the sudden, you were gone, down in the ditch," he said, laughing. Edward glared at him, and his tone sobered. "You're alright, though?"

Edward spoke for me. "She's fine." He was still standing in front of me, so close I could see that he probably hadn't shaved this morning, and the stubble was beginning to grow back. He wasn't laughing at me, or even trying not to. He reached up and brushed a little bit of dirt off of my cheek, and the ghost of his touch burned there for a moment after his fingers were gone.

"I'm fine," I repeated. It was hard to look away from Edward's angelic face. In fact, it seemed to take all the energy I had left to be standing there next to him. I was exhausted.

Emmett laughed, and it was a boisterous sound, devoid of any self-consciousness. I envied him that. "Okay, Grace, we'll see you tonight at dinner, then." He turned to walk back to the car with a pronounced swagger, his lower back muscles working beneath his shirt with every step. He had to be a football player. And probably all of 22 years old.

Edward held my upper arm as we climbed back up the embankment to the yard. "Thanks for not laughing at me," I said, smiling at him warmly.

A small smile danced at the corners of his mouth. "I like to think I have a more developed sense of humor than Emmett." When he was sure I was steady footed and on solid ground, he loosened his grip, then slid his hand down my arm onto my wrist, leaving behind a trail of pure electricity in his wake. "See you tonight, Bella Swan."


	3. After Dinner Hints

**Author's Note: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight; I'm just grateful to be able to play with her beautiful characters. Never any copyright infringement intended.**

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_Bella's POV_

I stepped out of my front door for the Cullen house at 6:45. Emmett said to be there at 7, but I didn't want to be late. I couldn't see their house from the road and I didn't know how long the meandering driveway was. After all, they'd driven their car over this morning. I was without benefit of a working vehicle at the moment.

I was wearing the shirt that Alice and I had bought on our shopping trip last night, a blue knit top with ¾ length sleeves. I didn't think it was too terribly low cut, but it didn't look frumpy either. I'd coupled it with a fitted khaki skirt and flat shoes that had been in my suitcase. I was not taking any chances with high heels after my fall this afternoon.

I was glad I'd gotten an early start, because the Cullen driveway must have been over a mile long. The house itself was stunning, and huge, as I expected it to be. The only family practitioner in a place like Forks had a monopoly on his market. Not only that, Charlie once told me that people came from other towns to see Dr. Cullen. He must have been a hell of a doctor.

I gripped a bottle of wine in my left hand and my purse in my right. The wine had been a going away gift from Esme; I hated to re-gift it, but I hated showing up empty handed even more. I approached the front door and rang the bell.

When the door opened, a gorgeous blond man of maybe forty or so stood backlit by the chandelier in the foyer. "Nice to finally meet you in person, Bella," Dr. Cullen said in a silken voice. "Charlie talked about you all the time. Come on in." I was beginning to understand Dr. Cullen's appeal in Forks, among the female population anyway.

"This is a beautiful house, Dr. Cullen. Did you build it yourself or—"

He interrupted me. "Please call me Carlisle. Only my patients call me Dr. Cullen." He turned to hang my purse on the coat rack.

"Okay, Carlisle. Did you build the house or buy it already built?" Stupid question, Bella. I felt a blush creep up my neck. I felt another presence, and saw that Edward had stepped into the foyer. He wasn't looking at my face; his gaze was decidedly . . . _lower_. My blush deepened.

Carlisle turned to me again. "I bought it, but I've made a lot of renovations to fit my lifestyle better."

"Like what? What kind of renovations, I mean?" I asked as we walked into a sitting room outfitted in shades of gold, cream and white. The room terminated in a wall of glass, tall windows that revealed a view of a lush yard and the forest's edge.

"Well," said Carlisle, "I added these windows to the entire back of the house. You can see why." I _could_ see why. The late evening sun was spectacular. "I'm going to go open this bottle. Have a seat. Dinner is going to be ready soon." He swept from the room.

I ran my fingers over the rich sueded arm of the cream sofa before sitting down. Edward was already sitting on the matching loveseat on the opposite side of the room, illuminated by the dying sunlight. He was looking out of the window.

I cleared my throat, and Edward's eyes turned to meet mine, causing my heart to stutter. "You look a lot like your dad," I said.

He shook his head. "No I don't," he said. His tone was gentle.

"Oh, I think you do," I said, smiling. "You both have the same facial structure, strong cheekbones, you know."

"I'm adopted," he said.

My smile died. An apology would sound pathetic, and there wasn't much else to say. I should have known; Carlisle was kind of young to have kids of his own who were Emmett and Edward's age. I felt the familiar heat flood my cheeks and chest again, and thought it might be better if I just stayed red so I didn't overwork my circulatory system every time I embarrassed myself tonight.

"Do you turn red like that all the time, or are you just nervous tonight?" Edward asked.

I decided that the fewer words I spoke, the less chance I would say something stupid. "Nervous."

He regarded me for another heartbeat. "It's cute."

"Cute?" I snorted. I looked at him to see if he was fucking with me, but he was looking out of the window again.

Carlisle appeared soon after with three glasses of the wine I'd brought. He handed one to me and one to Edward, and sat on the love seat next to his adopted son. He raised his glass and said, "Cent' Anni!" I raised my glass in response.

Edward didn't say anything, but brought the glass to his lips and drew a small sip of the wine between them. He was staring at me over the top of his glass. A smile played at the corner of his mouth.

"Bella, how was the trip from Phoenix?" Carlisle asked.

"Long. There were a couple of mechanical delays at the airport in Salt Lake City during the layover. But the weather was good. Well, until I got here, of course." I fidgeted, running my thumb over the lip of my glass. "By the way, how did you know I was coming?"

Edward and Carlisle spoke at the same time. "Alice," was all they needed to say, and I laughed.

"Well, we're glad you made it here safely. I'm looking forward to getting to know you." _Why, Dr. Cullen, are you flirting with me? _I thought. _God, Bella, you'd think you'd never been around men before._

A female voice called from the dining room. "Dinner's on the table!"

Edward rolled his eyes. "Rose is so _loud_," he said to no one in particular.

I followed Carlisle into the candlelit dining room, and Edward trailed behind me. He slid a chair back from the table and gestured for me to sit down, and I hesitated. It had been a long time since someone had pulled out a chair for me. He was still looking at me expectantly, so I set my glass on the table and sat down as he tucked the chair under me.

Edward sat immediately across from me. Carlisle sat at the head of the table on the opposite end. Emmett sat next to me, and across from him and next to Carlisle was a stunning young blonde woman in a tight black sweater dress. She didn't spare a look for me as she sipped her wine.

Carlisle made the introduction. "Bella, this is Rosalie. Rosalie, Bella." The blonde looked up and nodded curtly, clearly inviting no further conversation. I nodded back. She was really young—definitely younger than me, and probably not much older than Carlisle's own sons. Well, he was a wealthy, handsome doctor. It stood to reason he'd have a trophy wife. I felt silly thinking he'd flirted with me when he was married to a woman who could have easily been a supermodel.

The table was laden with silver dishes full of more food than we could eat. "This is a lovely meal, Rosalie," I complimented.

"I didn't make it," she said with a sniff. "That's what chefs are for."

"Oh," was all I could manage to say as I looked down at my plate.

Emmett laughed again. "Rose? Cook? Nice one, Bella!"

I looked up to gauge the reaction of the blonde, expecting to see the evil stepmother emerge, but she was looking at Emmett endearingly and smiling, revealing perfect white teeth behind her full lips. "Emmett had better earn enough when he graduates to hire someone to cook for us," she said. "Or at least afford to eat out every night. Otherwise, he'll be looking for a new fiancée." She blew a kiss to Emmett, who pretended to catch it in midair. Well, at least I hadn't voiced my assumption that she was with Carlisle. I would have had to fake an illness to avoid the humiliation _that_ would have caused.

The conversation at the table flowed more easily as the meal progressed and we all had a second glass of wine. The Cullens were so complimentary to each other—Emmett as loud as Carlisle was quiet, Rosalie as beautiful as Edward was handsome. Emmett and Edward were home for the summer from the University of Washington, Edward a rising senior and Emmett working toward his master's degree in wildlife conservation. Rosalie and Emmett were getting married next year after he finished graduate school. Carlisle was a bachelor who had adopted both boys when Edward was nine and Emmett was ten. I listened and contributed as little as possible about my own life. When they asked me what I did for a living, I told a little white lie and said I was a technical writer. People's eyes generally glazed over when I told them that, saving me the embarrassing questions that people asked when I told them I wrote erotica for a living.

After dinner, Carlisle invited me to join them in the sitting room for dessert. I glanced at the clock on the wall and saw that it was after nine; not late by my standards, but I hadn't slept well my first night in Forks.

"I'm sorry, Carlisle, but I'm going to have to eat and run," I said. "I've got to start writing early tomorrow morning, and the house needs a lot of cleaning to make it liveable again."

Carlisle smiled. "I understand, Bella. Dessert, some other time then." He winked, and this time I was sure he was flirting with me.

I said goodbye to Edward, Emmett and Rosalie, then walked with Carlisle to the front door. I'd forgotten that I had no car, and now it was full dark outside. I was going to have to walk down that long driveway in the pitch black night. I wasn't scared of the dark, exactly, but being a little bit tipsy and a whole lot clumsy was a dangerous combination for me, even in broad daylight.

Carlisle seemed to realize the same thing as he was opening the door for me. "Edward!" he called in the direction of the dining room. Edward peered around the corner at us. "Can you run Bella home in the Volvo? It's definitely too dark for her to walk home."

Edward didn't say a word but disappeared for a second, emerging again with a set of keys in his hand. "Ready, Bella?" he asked. I lost an incoherent moment at the way his mouth wrapped around my name.

"Sure. Thanks so much, Edward."

_Edward's POV_

Bella's voice gave my name an added dimension I'd never appreciated before. I wondered if there were a way to get her to say it again tonight before I left her standing at her door.

When I opened the passenger side door of the Volvo for her, she looked surprised. She'd looked surprised when I'd pulled her chair out for her earlier as well. I wondered if she liked it or thought it was old fashioned.

She was fascinating, and I didn't know why. Women held a certain level of fascination for me, of course—I was a guy after all—but none of them held a candle to Bella Swan. Her eyes were certainly part of it, deep brown with flecks of gold, enticingly expressive. The way she she blushed at everything, the pink slowly creeping from her chest, over her collarbones, up her neck and onto her creamy countenance. Her laugh that took over her whole body. I was so _aware_ of her.

When she'd arrived at the house tonight she'd caught me looking at her chest. I wasn't looking at her tits as much as the outline of her collarbones under her pale skin, the way her long dark hair tumbled over her shoulder and fell along the curve of her breast. And if I had to be honest, yes, I was looking at her tits too, enveloped snugly in the soft blue fabric of her shirt. Desire had stirred in my dick and stayed there all evening.

I stole a quick glance at her now, her face illuminated by the car's dashboard lights. I eased slowly down the dark drive, trying to prolong my time with her.

Bella spoke first. "What do you do around here during the summer?" she asked.

"Emmett and I used to go camping all the time, but we don't go as often now that he has Rosalie," I tried to keep the venom out of my voice when I said her name. Rosalie had rubbed me the wrong way from the moment I'd met her. "Now I spend most of my time doing odd jobs."

"Odd jobs?" she raised one eyebrow at me.

"I give piano lessons, run errands for Carlisle, do painting or yard work, that sort of thing," I told her.

"Certainly you don't need the money? Remember, I just saw the house you live in, so don't fib."

I smiled. She was sharp. "Carlisle's house, Carlisle's money. Not that he won't give me cash if I ask for it, but it's nice to earn my own."

"Painting and yard work, huh? I've got a lot you can do at Charlie's—at _my_ house, if you're interested."

I swallowed hard. "Definitely interested," I told her as I pulled up in her driveway.

_Bella's POV_

Edward agreed to stop by tomorrow morning to see all of the work that I needed done on the house. I made him promise he'd tell me if it was too much for him to do on his own, but he just smiled and said, "I can handle it."

He stepped out of the Volvo and walked to my side to open the door for me. It usually made me crazy when men did this sort of thing—I was a grown woman capable of getting myself out of a car, after all—but for some reason, I was making an exception for Edward Cullen.

I wasn't going to let him walk me to the door, though. "I can get myself to the front door," I said, trying not to sound ungrateful.

"After your tumble into the ditch this afternoon? I think not," he said, putting his hand at the small of my back and guiding me up the path. I could feel the energy traveling from his body to mine through his touch. It really had been a long time since I'd been laid.

By the time we got to the porch I felt awkward, like it was the end of a date. _Do I invite him in? For what?_ A thrill ran through me as I imagined exactly _what_.

"Okay, I'm sure I can survive from this point," I laughed.

Edward smiled, and it occurred to me that we were standing extraordinarily close to each other. He must have noticed it too, because he took a step back. Then, as though he'd changed his mind about something, he cocked his head to one side and closed the measure between us, until he was close enough that I felt his breath on my skin. He brushed one long finger down the side of my cheek before stepping back again. "Good night, Bella," he said gently.

"Good night, Edward," I managed. He gave me a satisfied little smile before descending the steps and disappearing into the summer night.

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**I promise that there will be lemons--oh yes, there will be lemons. I'm a little old fashioned--I like my characters know each other before screwing like rabbits. That doesn't mean Edward won't fantasize about it in excruciating detail in the next chapter.**


	4. Darkness and Light

**Author's note: Now I know why FF authors always beg for reviews . . . reviews are more addictive than crack. I had no idea how needy I was for the approval of strangers until now. Thanks for everyone who set this up as an alert or a favorite--I realize it's a risk to start reading an incomplete story and I will not to let you down. More than half of the chapters are already written, so there will only be a delay when I have to write connecting pieces to tie everything together.**

**There will also be a slight delay since I'm spending the next week in Hawaii. With hundreds of Marines. I'm hoping to do a little "research" for my Lemon flavored chapters.**

**Some of you asked questions, all of which will be answered in this and coming chapters. If you ask a question I don't plan to address in the story, I'll send you an answer, but otherwise rest assured that it will come out in the narrative.  
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*****IMPORTANT: I feel compelled to issue my first language and content warning: this chapter is a little sexy. In fact, most of the chapters that follow this will have some sex and probably profanity too. It's not as dirty as I'd like it to be, but some readers may be more sensitive than I am.**

**And for those of you who have shown up specifically looking for smut, I can only hope I'm delivering.**

**I don't own Twilight or any of its associated characters. I do own a Pocket Edward, but this isn't about him.**

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_Edward's POV_

_The room was almost completely dark, the night infused with the scent of berries and vanilla. Bella. I could barely make out her shadowy form, but I felt the mattress shift as she climbed onto the foot of the bed. She crept over my body, trailing her long dark hair over my ankles, my knees, my thighs, my stomach. My cock reacted immediately to her closeness, reaching out for her in the dark. _

_She continued edging up my body until she hovered directly over me, naked and gloriously warm. I smiled at her. "Bella."_

"_Edward." She said it just as she had when I'd dropped her off earlier. She could say my name all night, over and over again, and I'd never tire of it. She lowered herself so that her forearms rested on either side of my head, bringing her face within an inch of mine and pressing her bare nipples to my chest. She placed a light kiss on one corner of my mouth, and then the other, softly licking my lower lip. I brought my tongue out to meet hers. She kissed me deeply, running her fingers through my hair._

_She broke the kiss and lifted her body from mine. I tried to sit up to protest her absence, to beg her to stay, when I felt her tugging my boxer shorts down. She slid them off and tossed them behind her, then knelt down on the bed in front of me. I felt her breath, hot and humid, on the head of my cock and dropped back down onto the pillow. _

_Please. _

_Bella was blowing on my shaft, but not touching it. I concentrated on keeping my hips still and letting her do whatever it was she was doing. She took me in her hand and used the tip of my cock to trace the outline of her lips, and I moaned. Sweet torture._

_Please._

"_Would you like more?" she teased. I was rock hard in her hand—of course I wanted more._

"_Please," I whispered._

_Without hesitation, she took me into her mouth all the way to the point where her hand was wrapped around the base. Her lips created delicious friction against my shaft while her tongue worked rhythmically around the head, swirling around each time she pulled back. Bella's mouth was strong, wet, perfect. She added slight suction, and I felt my climax building._

_I could see her better now. Her hair was swept over to one side, and she looked into my eyes as my cock disappeared behind her lips. She held my balls in her other hand, squeezing them with the lightest pressure on each downward stroke of her mouth._

"_I'm going to come," I warned her when I was getting close to the point of no return. Bella made no movement to take her mouth away, in fact increasing her rhythm and suction. She let go of my balls and grabbed my ass, pushing me into the back of her throat. _

I yelled out when I came, waking myself up. My dream had been so vivid that I could still smell Bella, still feel her mouth on my body. I was painfully alone in the room, and I'd made a mess of my sheets as well.

It wasn't quite dawn yet, but I couldn't lay here in a wet spot until morning. I got out of the bed and pulled off my boxers, throwing them onto the bed with the sullied sheets. I snatched my quilt from the foot of the bed and went to lie down on my black leather sofa.

I'd had wet dreams before, of course, when I was younger. I'd never felt this way afterward though—intense, exhausted, and oddly satisfied. I dozed on and off as night turned into dawn, grateful for the realness and beauty of my dream. I might have felt guilty about it, but it had been a dream, completely out of my control. And it was as close to being with Bella as I was likely to get.

I must have fallen into a real and dreamless sleep after that, because when I heard the knock on my bedroom door and opened my eyes, the sun had fully risen. "Come in," I called to the knocker.

Carlisle's face peered around my door. "Good morning, Edward. Do you have any plans for today?"

"Yes," I said, awkwardly remembering that I was naked. "I told Bella Swan I'd stop by to look at some work she needed done on her house."

Carlisle made an approving face. "That's great, Edward." He walked into the room and stood at the foot of the sofa with his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "What do you think of Bella?"

"Bella is—" I paused, trying to suppress the foolish grin that threatened to spread across my face, "—she's very smart. She's got a great sense of humor."

"Quite attractive, too," Carlisle said, looking out of the window.

"She is."

Carlisle sighed lightly and looked back at me. If he wondered why I was sleeping on the sofa instead of the bed, he didn't ask. "After you're done at Bella's, do you think you could swing by the office and pick up the prescription deliveries?"

"Sure, Carlisle."

He started to leave the room, then turned to me with a thoughtful look. "If you can do so without being obvious, see if you can find out what Bella's situation is."

"Situation?" I asked.

"You know, if she's seeing someone. In Phoenix. I wanted to ask her last night, but I thought it might be rude with Rose and Emmett there. Maybe you can find out for me."

_For him._ I nodded weakly, and Carlisle smiled, shutting the door behind him as he left.

For him?

_Bella's POV_

I stood in the kitchen, pondering breakfast. I had no car, I had no groceries. Hell, I hadn't even plugged in the refrigerator yet. I was used to living in a city where I could walk to food or it could be walked to me, and Forks was not compatible with this system. Yesterday I hadn't been all that hungry, and I'd survived on a granola bar I had in my bag. Today I needed real food—and coffee, my God, coffee—before I could think about all the work I had to do. I called Alice.

"Of course, I'll bring you breakfast!" Alice said.

"Nothing extravagant, Alice. You have a way of going overboard. Fast food will be fine."

"Nonsense. I'll just bring you what Jasper and I had—omelets, French toast, bacon, fruit and freshly squeezed orange juice."

"That sounds great, Al—"

"Or better yet, I'll come get you and you can eat here and see the house."

I looked at the clock. It was just after 8 a.m. "As long as I'm back here by eleven."

Alice's Porsche was in my driveway less than ten minutes later. "So why do you need to be back by eleven?" she asked as I got in the car.

"I've got Edward coming to look at some work that needs to be done on the house."

"Cullen?" she asked so quickly I nearly missed it.

"What?"

"Edward Cullen is coming over?"

"Yes, to look at some siding replacement and painting work I need done," I reiterated.

"You met him last night, right?" she asked cryptically.

"I met him yesterday actually, but yes, I had dinner with his family last night," I told her. "And he drove me home after because it was dark out and I don't have a car."

Alice smiled broadly. "And what did you think of dear Edward?" she asked.

"He's quiet. Very bright," I said. Alice gave me a knowing look. "Please watch the road while you drive, Alice."

"And what else did you think about Edward, Bella?"

"He has fantastic manners."

"And?"

She was going to make me say it. "He's really good looking too. All of the Cullens are. Rosalie is fucking gorgeous."

"She's Jasper's sister you know," Alice said.

"No, I didn't know," I said, surprised. I was glad I didn't mention that I thought Rosalie was a conceited gold-digger.

"So you had a good time with them last night."

"I did," I answered. "There was one thing, though. Last night when Edward dropped me off, he insisted on walking with me to the door. Just before we said good night, he sort of . . . touched my face."

"He felt up your face?" she asked with a tone of incredulity.

"No, he just kind of stroked it, touched my cheek. I don't know. It blew my mind. I mean, I could barely speak afterwards."

"That's huge, chica."

"No," I answered her, "it's not. Maybe he was wiping some schmutz off of my face."

"Do you really think that's what he was doing?" she asked.

I shook my head no. "It was definitely more than a friendly gesture."

"Are you going to seduce him?" she asked.

I cut my eyes at her. "Not a chance, Alice. I don't date The Young. He's what—ten years younger than me?"

"Nine," she answered without hesitation. "You and I are both 30. Rosalie is 22, and she's a year older than Edward."

_Nine years. _ I thought about that until Alice pulled into the paved driveway of a huge stone house set on a hill. "This is where you live? God, Alice, it's gorgeous."

"I know. Jasper built it for me last year. Wait until you see my closet."

Over breakfast, Alice brought up Edward again. "If you read his signals right, he's interested, and Edward's never been interested in anyone that I'm aware of."

"How do you know the Cullens so well?"

"Mostly through Rosalie. Jasper has some business dealings with Carlisle, too."

"Is Jasper in the medical field?"

Alice said, _sotto voce_, "No, but in his line of work, it's good to know a doctor you can trust." I'd been trying to find out what Alice's husband did for a living since they got married, but she seemed reluctant to tell me. I was beginning to think I didn't want to know how Jasper made his money.

"So, Edward," she said, bringing the conversation back around. "There's no denying that he's hot."

I thought of the way his shirt had clung to his muscled chest, his elegant swagger, the feeling of his finger on my skin. Heat crept over me, this time not from embarrassment. Alice squealed with delight before I even spoke. "He's definitely hot," I sighed.

"And you're horny," she said. I made a face at her. "Tell me it isn't true, Bella."

"Well," I said, "it isn't _not_ true. It's part of the reason I'm here. I've kind of lost my mojo, as they say."

"Well, if you're going to find your mojo, it will be with a hot, young piece of ass like Edward."

I tried to think of ways to deny it, but couldn't. Alice, as usual, was irritatingly right.


	5. Crossed Wires

**Author's Note: Per usual, I don't own "Twilight", Bella, Carlisle, Rosalie, Emmett, Esme or *sigh* Edward. Stephenie Meyer did all the hard work and gets the fat paychecks for it, while I just play around and don't get paid. But I love these characters like they were friends and family, and I like to give them a little bit of edge and a lot of hormones.**

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_Edward's POV_

It made sense, really. Most women in Forks had a crush on Carlisle, but his head was rarely turned by any of the locals, since most of them were typical small town women. They led simple, safe lives, and while there wasn't anything wrong with that, they just weren't Carlisle's type. Then Bella swept in, an intoxicating blend of intelligence and subtlety, experience and beauty. Of course he liked her. Who wouldn't? I certainly did.

The part that didn't make any sense was my confidence last night that she had liked me as well, that she might be for _me_. I had been so sure of my affect on her that, in an effort to make her say my name, I'd touched her cheek—such a personal gesture. I realized now that it had been a mistake to take that liberty. What did she think of me? She probably thought I was a stupid frat boy who couldn't keep his hands to himself. I fumed as I got dressed, throwing on a pair of dirty jeans and a holey t-shirt.

So what now? I'd all but committed to doing the repairs on her house, and from what I could tell, it was going to be no small job. I'd have to be around her every day for weeks, smelling her shampoo or perfume or whatever it was that made me crazy, hearing her voice, catching glimpses of her neck, her legs, her ass. God damn it, couldn't my dick give it a rest? I was trying to be angry at myself for my slip with Bella, and he was putting fantastic images of her body in my mind, really getting his jollies. I put my boots on without tying them, ran my fingers through my hair, and went downstairs, slamming every door along the way.

"What the fuck is your problem?" came Rosalie's grating voice from the living room.

"Good morning to you, too, Rose," I answered from the kitchen. The best way to push Rosalie's buttons was to make her think she wasn't pushing yours. I thought she might come into the kitchen and argue with me, but she didn't. Damn, I could have used an argument to shake off some of the tension that had been building since I'd talked to Carlisle.

I sipped on a glass of orange juice while flipping through a magazine on the table, though I wasn't paying much attention to its pages. I was trying to decide whether to go to Bella's house at all this morning. I could call and tell her it was too much work for me to do alone, or that another job opportunity came up. I could tell her I didn't have the tools I needed to do the work. Or I could tell her that it would kill me to be around her every day knowing she didn't want me.

The clock in the kitchen read 10:50 a.m. If I wasn't going to go, I should call her now.

I put my face in my hands and let go of a heavy sigh. There was no question that I was going to Bella's, because I'd told Carlisle I would, to find out for him whether she was available. I hoped to God she wasn't, that she had some faceless boyfriend in Phoenix, someone I'd never have to meet, because I was sure I couldn't handle it if she started dating Carlisle.

I also had to go because I needed to see her again. It was a funny thing; I thought I knew what it meant to be attracted to someone. I'd met, dated, and fucked a variety of girls I must have liked at some point, but they now merged into one gray lump in the back of my mind. Meeting Bella was like having someone turn on a light in a darkened room—I had no idea how dark it was until Bella flipped the switch. All the others were distant, foggy memories from a past life. Bella was clear and bright, my present and future.

Of course I was going to her house today.

*

_Bella's POV_

I still hadn't met Jasper. He'd been gone when Alice and I arrived at her house, and did not return while I was there. Alice shrugged. "I never know when he's going to be around. He kind of keeps weird hours. On call, you know," she's said, miming a phone receiver with her hand.

"I really do need to get home, Alice."

Once we were back at my house, Alice asked, "Will you please think about what I said, Bella? About Edward?"

"I don't know, it seems strange, don't you think?" I asked, rubbing my face. "I've only been here for two days. I'm only going to be here for a couple of months, and I have a lot of writing to get done during that time. I wouldn't even know where to begin with Edward."

Without a word, Alice reached over and unbuttoned the second and third buttons of my shirt. "There's a start."

I re-buttoned one of the buttons and got out of her car. "Do you think men are that simple?" I asked her through the open window.

"Yes," replied Alice. "Yes I do. Good luck!" She flashed a brilliant smile and drove off, leaving me standing in my driveway in my unbuttoned shirt, my stomach twisting with anticipation and indecision.

I went inside and called Esme.

"Are you settled yet, Bella?"

"Not really. I forgot there wasn't anything within walking distance here, and I don't have a car," I complained. "Actually, I have a broken red Chevy, but I don't think it counts."

"I'll have a rental delivered to you, if you want." Esme's voice was full of concern. "Is that all that's bothering you?"

I paused. "Actually, it's kind of tough being here and seeing Charlie's stuff. I haven't checked yet, but I bet his clothes are still upstairs in his closet."

"So you've been sitting in that house alone with ghosts for two days?"

"Well, Alice took me shopping night before last, and I had dinner with my neighbors last night." _And my neighbor's angel of a son touched my face for two seconds on my front porch and sent me reeling in ways I don't understand. _ I was keeping that to myself, though.

"Neighbors?" asked Esme.

"Dr. Cullen and his sons Emmett and Edward, and Emmett's fiancée Rosalie."

"Oh, a doctor. Nice. Cute?"

"Definitely. Looks like he belongs in the movies."

"Did you have a good time with Doc Hollywood?"

"I did have a good time," I said. "We drank the bottle of wine you gave me when I left Phoenix."

"The Pio Cesare Barolo? How was it?"

"I don't know, Esme, it was wine. It tasted like wine. I got a decent buzz off of it."

"Seriously, Bella. I don't know why I bother trying to educate you in the finer things in life. You'd prefer a margarita and a hamburger to a 2004 Barolo and vitello scallopini marsala."

"I don't know what you just said, but a margarita and a hamburger sounds divine," I teased.

"So you're ready to work on the rewrites? Don't overthink it, Bella, you've done this a thousand times. You could write these in your sleep. Just picture Doc Hollywood, naked with a margarita in one hand and a hamburger in the other."

I laughed, but then another image materialized in my mind: Edward Cullen, naked with his muscled legs tangled in my white sheets, untidy reddish-brown hair on my pillow. No margarita, no hamburger, still divine. I got lost in the thought.

Esme's voice reminded me where I was. "Hello? Bella? Still there?"

"I'm here. Sorry," I said. "I'm writing today. I'll send you something as soon as I have it done."

"That's my girl," said Esme. "Let me know if there is anything I can do for you."

"Of course. Thanks. Bye." I hung up the phone and looked at the clock. 10:55. I wondered if Edward would be on time. I looked down at my outfit and sighed, re-undoing the third button on my shirt.

At exactly 11, the silver Volvo pulled into the driveway. I pulled apart the blinds in the front window to watch Edward walk up the front path, full of purpose and power in tight jeans and untied boots. More unbidden images, this time of his boots kicked off onto my bedroom floor and his jeans in a haphazard pile at the foot of my bed. Alice's insistence about Edward this morning was doing weird things to my mind.

He rang the bell, and I paused for a moment so he wouldn't think I'd been waiting there for him. By the time I'd opened the door, he was leaning against the railing evaluating the chipped paint and warped siding boards next to the porch, a notepad and pen in his hand.

When he heard the door open, the green eyes flickered toward me, and I had to stop myself from sighing. "Good morning, Bella."

"Good morning Edward." He was wearing an old gray shirt with holes in it, shapeless gashes through which I could see his chest and shoulders. I contemplated hooking a finger into one of the rips to feel his bare skin, and things stood still for a moment while I tried to think of something to say in lieu of touching him inappropriately. "I'd invite you in for coffee, but I don't have any. I don't have anything, actually, since my mode of transportation hasn't run in twelve years." I nodded towards the dead Chevy truck next to his car.

He looked at the old truck. "I bet Rose could get it running."

I made an incredulous snorting sound, but Edward kept a straight face. "You're not kidding?" He shook his head. "Rosalie? Rosalie who doesn't cook but apparently fixes cars?"

"She'd love to get her hands on that one," he said, jerking his thumb at the truck. "It's a classic." He said the last word with a tone of disdain that clearly said he didn't think my truck was a classic at all. I felt a little indignant.

"That truck got me through all of high school, and hauled somebody around for thirty years before that. Don't knock it."

"Sorry." He managed to sound somewhat chastised, even though his amusement still shone in his eyes. "She really could fix it for you, though."

"One thing at a time. I saw you looking at my siding," I said, leaning over the railing to point at the chipped boards. "What do you think?"

*

_Edward's POV_

I wish I'd put on nicer clothes. Bella's eyes raked over my raggedy shirt, and when she didn't speak, I supposed she was coming up with a nice way to tell me she didn't need my help. That would be a relief of sorts, that I wouldn't have to come over here again, but also a misery, that I wouldn't have a reason to see her. I stood in agony waiting for her verdict, but she just told me that she had no coffee to offer me because she had no transportation. I was so giddy that I wasn't being dismissed that I suggested Rosalie's assistance with her ridiculous old truck.

Bella's hair was loosely wrapped into a soft twist, russet curls falling into her face and down her neck. She had on some sort of snug black workout pants and a pale yellow blouse with more buttons undone than there should have been, as I could see the lovely curve of her bare breast when she leaned forward.

She was looking at me expectantly; she'd asked me a question. She was pointing at the siding, she must have asked me about it.

"It's probably not as bad as you think," I said, hoping I'd answered the question she'd asked. She nodded, so I must have been on the right track. "It's real hardwood, not a chipboard or composite. A few boards will need to be replaced, but a good paint job will solve most of your problems."

We walked slowly around the house, and I pointed out a couple of windows that had rotted, and some unstable trees that should come down, making notes on my pad. I found it was best if I didn't look directly at Bella; she was hypnotizing, like staring into a fire, and I couldn't think properly when we made eye contact. When we'd made a full circuit around the house, I had a substantial list of items that needed to be replaced, repaired, painted or removed.

Bella looked over the list, tilting her head towards mine, seeming impossibly close. "Wow. That's a long list. You'll let me know what you'll charge?"

Charge? I'd not even thought of charging Bella for the work. Did I plan to do it for free? I really hadn't thought this through very well. "I'll have to price out the materials. I'll let you know." There was only one more bit of business I had to take care of here today, and every cell in my body was in opposition to the question I would ask next. "Um, this is kind of awkward . . . " I began.

Bella looked at me quizzically, a small worried wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. "Awkward?"

"You didn't mention at dinner last night, but are you seeing anyone? In Phoenix?" Bella immediately turned a pleasing shade of deep rose, and though I didn't like to embarrass her, a thrill ran through me at her physical reaction. She looked at the ground, opened her mouth, but closed it without reply. "If it's too personal, you don't have to answer."

Bella, still quite pink, answered with a quiet, "No."

"No it's not too personal, or no you're not seeing anyone?"

"Neither. Not too personal, not seeing anyone." She glanced up at me from under her long lashes and licked her lips, and it was my turn for my body to react, though the blood was definitely not rushing to my face. She gave me a coy smile.

"Don't tell him I said so, but Carlisle will be happy to hear that." He'd asked me to be discreet, but right now, I wasn't feeling magnanimous enough to do anything that might make Bella more inclined to like Carlisle.

"Dr. Cullen wanted to know?" she asked, the slight smile fading and the furrow reappearing at her brow. I nodded, and something minute passed over Bella's face. Something very much like disappointment. She'd been happy when I'd shown interest in her love life, but disappointed when I'd mentioned Carlisle?

In that sliver of time, in that briefest of expressions, a gleam of hope took up residence in my chest.

* * *

**Thank you for your patience. I'll try to keep them coming harder and faster now. I'll get the chapters out quicker, too. *lewd wink***


	6. Disappointment

**Author's Note: No copyright infringement intended. Stephenie Meyer owns these characters and settings. I do not own. I love, I write, I play. **

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_Edward's Point of View_

The rest of the day after I'd left Bella's had been one stupid thing after another.

The first thing had been going to Carlisle's office to pick up the prescription deliveries. I knew he was going to ask about Bella, but I didn't want to discuss her with him and douse the small fire of hope I'd built. I went in the private entrance to his office so I wouldn't have to talk to his chatty secretary. Jessica's words dripped from her mouth like honey, but I always had the feeling that when I turned my back the honey turned to venom. The less she saw of me, the better.

I'd hoped to find the scripts on his desk all lined up and ready to go, but no luck. I was going to have to find Carlisle. I was going to have to talk to him. Shit.

I stood in the cool quiet of his office and waited, arms crossed in front of me, staring at the Vedder hanging in the alcove behind his desk. I'd always liked the painting before, with its goddess painted in muted greens and pinks and creams; today I hated it. The painted goddess, with dark eyes and darker curls that reminded me of Bella, belonged to Carlisle. The painting had surely cost more than most of the people in Forks made in a year. I couldn't even begin to have anything so beautiful.

Carlisle came in and clapped me on the shoulder. "Edward! Right on time." He went to the cherry cabinet beside his desk and unlocked it. Pulling out a tray of neat packages, he said, "How did things go at Bella's?"

I knew he was asking if I'd gotten any information for him, but I stubbornly played dumb. "Took less time than I'd thought. I should be able to get everything done before she goes back to Phoenix."

Carlisle looked at me blankly, then remembered. "The repair work. Of course. Did she say when she'd be going back?"

"Not really. I'm thinking soon. In a couple of weeks. She'll be here just enough time to get the house back in order." _Not_ _enough time to start anything with you._ "I'm thinking she plans to sell it." I had no reason to believe this was true, but I had an irrepressible desire to make him give up on Bella.

"Sell Charlie's house?" his eyebrows bunched at the thought. "She didn't mention it last night."

I took the tray of prescriptions from him and started for the door. I had my hand on the knob when I he spoke up again. "Did you get a chance to ask her if she was single?"

Fuck shit fuck. "Yes."

"She's single?"

"Yes." I was still facing the door. I didn't want to see the look of satisfaction on his face as he processed my answer.

"You were discreet when you inquired?"

"As much as I could be," I answered, truthfully I decided. There was no way I would have been able to put any effort into being cagey about asking Bella if she were available. I hadn't realized it, but I'd wanted to know for myself more than I wanted to know for Carlisle; it was just convenient to be able to blame him for the question.

I delivered all the prescriptions as quickly as I could, skipping the small talk that usually went with dropping off the meds for the shut ins. I felt guilty, but reasoned that I wouldn't be very good company this afternoon anyway.

When I got back to the house, I had to deal with the second stupid thing: Emmett. He and Rosalie were sprawled on the couch watching football on ESPN Classic, Emmett shouting at the screen as though the game were live and not the 1986 Super Bowl. "Hey brother!" he called as I started up the stairs.

"Hey Emmett," I returned, hoping that would be the end of it. It wasn't.

"How was your date with Bella?"

I ground my teeth and chose my words carefully. "Not a date. It went fine."

"What was she wearing? Please tell me it was that tight blue shirt from last night." I heard a hard rap as Rosalie smacked him in the back of the head. That reminded me.

"Hey, Rose, Bella has an old Chevy you might be interested in."

Rosalie sat up sharply. "That '53 in the driveway?"

I went into the living room. "That's the one."

"What does she want done?"

"I think she just wants to see if you can get it running."

Rosalie's carefully constructed 'don't give a fuck' exterior fell apart for a moment when she thought about getting her hands on that truck. Emmett watched her face closely, and when she was lit up with excitement like that, I could almost see what he saw in her. Almost. "Let's go look at it now, Emmett," she said.

"Rose, it's the Super Bowl," Emmett whined. "Can't we go after?" Rosalie shot Emmett an exasperated look, but draped herself back over him on the couch.

I went up to my room and peeled off the holey t-shirt I'd been wearing all day. I was surprised Carlisle hadn't said anything about the way I'd been dressed, since I was running errands for him. I put fresh sheets on the bed, then lay in their crisp coolness, thinking of the brief glimpse of Bella's breast I'd gotten this morning. I imagined unbuttoning her blouse and running the backs of my fingers across that soft, curved flesh. Unthinkingly I stroked my hardening length through my jeans, while images of all of Bella's softest places—some I'd seen, some I hadn't—flashed in my mind.

I didn't hear Emmett come up the steps, but I sure as hell heard him bust through my bedroom door without knocking. "Taking a nap, little brother?" he mocked.

"Get the fuck out, Emmett." My hand was off of my dick and on my forehead. I scrunched my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him.

"I just wanted to ask you if you found out."

I opened one eye and did my best to glare at him with it. "Found out what?"

"If Bella was on the market. You know, for Carlisle."

"How did you—"

"He called here looking for you right after you left. We had a fun little conversation. Seems he likes Bella a lot."

"So?"

Emmett leaned against my leather couch. "So?" he mocked me. Then he gave me a lewd wink, which made my hard-on history. "He's not the only one, is he?"

"Fuck off, Emmett."

"I'm on your side here, Edward. I owe you for Rosalie."

I opened my other eye. Emmett sounded sincere. Emmett _never_ sounded sincere.

He continued. "If you hadn't turned your pretty nose up at Rose, she never would have looked at me. I owe you for that."

"I didn't do it for you," I said. Carlisle had introduced me to Rosalie last summer, but she wasn't my type. Maybe it was all the conceited blonde bullshit. "It's not like I stepped out of the way so you could have at her."

"Doesn't matter. I still owe you. I'm going to help you out with Bella, little brother. I saw the way she looked at you. You've got a shot there."

The hopeful flame flared white hot at his words. I wasn't sure I wanted Emmett on my side, but I would take what I could get. It also felt nice having someone else know that I wanted her, as though it made my desire valid.

"Thanks."

"We're headed over to Bella's place now. Rose wants to get at that truck, and what Rose wants—"

"Rose gets." I completed his sentence, punctuating it with an eye roll.

"We're taking the Volvo."

"No way, man."

"Trust me, Edward. If Bella sees the Volvo but not you, she'll miss you without even knowing why."

I felt a jolt of pure jealousy that Rosalie and Emmett were going to Bella's house without me. What Emmett lacked in courtesy and wit, though, he made up for in intuition and manipulation, and his logic made sense.

"Just don't let Rose drive it," I said, pulling the keys out of my pocket and tossing them to him.

I got up and locked the door behind him. It was still early, not even four o'clock, but I didn't plan to leave my room again for the rest of the night. If I went downstairs, I was going to find a reason to go outside, and if I went outside, I was going to find a reason to go to Bella's. Her pull on my mind and body were unbelievable.

I fired up my iPod, finding no satisfaction in any of the music I found, impatiently hitting the next arrow hoping for a song that I wanted to hear. Nothing. I stood in front of my bookshelves, running my fingers over the spines of a hundred of my favorite books, not interested in opening any of them. Finally I just plopped onto the bed and stared out of the window, towards Bella's house. I fell asleep before the sun had a chance to set.

"_Edward," she said, sounding like a teacher about to scold, "Do you have something you need to tell me?"_

"_No, Bella," I replied, trying to hide the growing bulge in my jeans. We were in the dining room, and we were alone._

"_No, what?" she asked sharply, walking closer. She had on a short skirt that swung around her thighs as she walked, revealing the lace tops of her thigh high stockings when she moved._

"_No ma'am," I corrected myself, leaning forward to hide my excitement. _

"_I think you'd better 'fess up," she demanded, leaning over the table. I tried not to look, but I could see down her blouse, and the creamy swells of her breasts were too much for me to ignore. She put a finger under my chin and forced my face up into hers. "My eyes are up here, Edward."_

"_I'm sor-sorry," I stammered._

_She let go of my face and walked around to where I was sitting. She sat on the edge of the table and pushed herself up onto it, revealing the skin of her smooth thighs above her stockings. I grew harder still, and tried to hide my erection under my hands._

"_You don't look sorry," she said, reaching down to move my hands, brushing her fingertips across the crotch of my jeans. "You don't _look_ sorry at all."_

_She inched over towards me until she was right in front of me, facing me. She swung one leg around me so that I was positioned between her knees. If her skirt just fell just right, I would be able to see everything._

"_Do you want to see, Edward?"_

"_Yes ma'am."_

"_Tell me what you want to see."_

"_I want to see you."_

"_But you _are_ seeing me, silly," she teased. "Unless there's something else. Something more." She shifted her skirt until I could see both of her thighs, pale and silky, half encased in lace and satin, half bare and taunting me to touch them. I reached forward to push her skirt all the way up._

"_Ah, ah. Not until you tell me what you want to see." She pulled her skirt back down a bit. _

_I moaned in frustration. "I want to see all of you."_

"_What will you give me in return?" she asked._

_I looked at her, surprised. "What do you want?" I looked back at the soft flesh of her thighs, imagining that the softness and smoothness continued all the way up her skirt. "I'll give you anything."_

"_I want this," she said, leaning over and unbuttoning the top button of my jeans. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."_

_I pulled down my zipper and hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my jeans to pull them down. My hard cock bobbed up and out of the front of my boxers, the tip already glistening with anticipation._

"_Thank you," she said. Slowly, she dragged her hands over her knees, over the tops of her stockings, and under the hem of her skirt. The skirt moved up, and I could see more, I was getting closer . . ._

I woke with a start. I could feel the warm wetness in my boxer shorts starting to cool, and I swore out loud. Damn it! I'd had only a handful of wet dreams since I'd turned fourteen, and here I was having my second one in as many nights. Grateful for my private bathroom, I got up to clean myself off. At least I'd fallen asleep with my jeans on and wouldn't have to change the sheets again.

After I'd slipped on a clean pair of shorts, I went to the sink to wash my hands. I looked at myself in the mirror. Two nights of interrupted sleep had started to take their toll, and I had the beginnings of purplish circles under my eyes. I ran my wet hands through my hair, slicking it back a bit.

I turned off the light and went back to bed. My bedside clock read 11:11 in glowing red. The full moon shone in, and I thought about Bella, lying in the dark in her house, possibly watching the moon too. I wanted to go to her place and see if she was still awake, or if she'd woken up in the light of the full moon. _Because that wouldn't be creepy at all_, I thought bitterly. I laid there for a long time, wondering what Bella dreamed of at night, if she ever woke up with lust soaked panties. My cock woke up again, and I tried to think of other things, just so I could get some rest tonight.

_********_

_Bella's Point of View_

I hadn't been able to write this afternoon. I'd sat in front of my laptop for almost an hour, fingers poised over the keyboard, waiting for words. Nothing. Esme's advice rattled to the top of my brain:_ Don't overthink it, Bella_. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, trying to empty my mind of everything I didn't need. I managed to clear it almost entirely; all that remained was Edward, standing on my front walk, telling me that Carlisle would be happy hear that I was single. _Carlisle_.

Why did that bother me so much? Because Carlisle was interested, and not Edward? That was ridiculous. _Poor Bella, a handsome doctor likes you._ Hadn't I been excited by Dr. Cullen's attention before dinner? If Alice hadn't talked Edward up so much, I'm not sure I would even be thinking about him.

I curled up on the sofa which had served as my bed for the past two nights. The afternoon sun warmed the room, and I was soon taking a fitful nap.

I didn't hear the crunch and grind of tires on the gravel drive. The flash of silver is what woke me, and my heart fluttered up into my throat. I scrambled off of the sofa and shuffled into the kitchen where I couldn't be seen from the front yard. I heard a coarse whine, metal on metal, and chanced a glimpse out of the kitchen window to see the hood of the old Chevy propped up with someone leaning over the engine.

I took the stairs two at a time, tripping midway up and losing a patch of skin from my right shin where it banged against the lip of the stair. I hobbled the rest of the way to the bathroom, rubbing my leg. I squeezed a quarter inch of toothpaste into my mouth and swished it around, and headed back down the stairs, trying not to think what my hair must look like.

I went outside and over to the truck as casually as I could. What greeted me there wasn't messy bronze, but instead golden blonde where Rosalie leaned over the engine, painstakingly manicured nails resting on the dirty rust of the Chevy's front end. I curled my fingers to hide my own nails. Emmett stood behind Rosalie, listening intently to her words, deferring to her higher knowledge.

"Just a few replacement parts. Definitely a tune up, and I won't know about the transmission until I can get it started," she said to Emmett, who nodded. "Bella," she said curtly, acknowledging my arrival on the scene.

"Hi Rosalie. Emmett." Without my permission, my eyes darted to the silver Volvo, then scanned the yard.

"He didn't come with us," Emmett offered with a smirk.

A heavy cloak of disappointment settled on my shoulders, but I tried to play it cool. "Who didn't come with you?"

Emmett rolled his eyes. "We just drove his car because it was blocking the Jeep."

I turned what I'm sure was an interesting shade of puce as I joined Rosalie and Emmett in leaning over the tangle of wires and pipes and metal pieces that was the engine of my truck. I hadn't a clue what I was looking at, but it didn't stop Rosalie from explaining my problem in explicit detail. When she was done, she looked me in the eye and asked, "So, it's okay with you?"

"What's okay?"

"If I work on your truck. Shit, if Edward was just fucking with me—"

I held up my hands. "No, no, he wasn't fucking with you. I would like to get it running again. Maybe I can sell it, or donate it. I have a rental coming, so I don't need the truck for getting around."

"I'll buy it from you," she said without hesitation, and I looked to see if she was joking. I couldn't picture this gorgeous creature behind the wheel of my funky old truck.

"If you get it running, you can have it," I told her.

She nodded, seemingly unfazed by the offer. "I'll have to work on it here at first, just to get it started. That's okay with you?" I didn't feel that her question left me many options, but I nodded my permission. She lifted the hood slightly, moved the hood prop to its prone position, and dropped it shut. "To the parts store, Emmett," then to me, "We'll be back tomorrow."

Emmett took Rosalie's hand for the short stroll back to the Volvo. I tried to stop myself, but couldn't. "Do you know if Edward is coming over tomorrow too?" I called after them, my voice sounding reedy to my own ears.

Rosalie didn't turn around, but Emmett did, walking backwards, his hand still holding Rosalie's. "I don't know, Bella. Call the house. I'm sure Carlisle could tell you." He gave me an enthusiastic smirk before turning back around. I stared after them, dumbfounded, until the Volvo disappeared around the first bend of the road.

Esme had a burgundy Mustang sent over by the rental company in the early evening while I was cleaning downstairs. I relished the sudden freedom to get food when I wanted, and to visit a convenience store and pick up a gossip rag to remind me that there was a world outside of Forks, Washington. I returned home just after dark with a belly full of Kung Pao chicken, a handful of tabloids, and two bags of groceries to fill the fridge I'd cleaned out.

My busy evening blotted out the blank pages and disappointing answers of my day. It wasn't until shortly after eleven when my pajamas were on and the television was off that the burdens reintroduced themselves to me as I lay on the sofa.

I pulled the quilt up under my chin and blinked at the ceiling. I'd taken down the curtains to wash them, leaving the front window naked, and moonlight washed the room in its pallid glow. The clock ticked off the seconds that I should be using for sleep, but sleep danced just out of my reach, taunting me. The longer I lay awake, the more sounds I heard, some real, some remembered. Crickets, frogs, night breezes tousling the treetops. The velvet ghost of Edward's voice: _Carlisle will be happy to hear that_.

Lying here in the moonlit living room, my stomach roiled. I felt, not for the first time in the past two years, that there was something wrong with me, that something was off. I clambered over the memories of the preceding 24 months, unable to find a moment when I'd felt comfortable in my own skin.

Apart from the two seconds when Edward Cullen had touched it.

It didn't make sense that he'd gone from that intimate gesture last night to setting me up with his father today. Unless it had meant nothing, that moment of contact. It made me sad that I didn't trust my instincts enough anymore to know if Edward's touch had any meaning at all. I pushed this morning's conversation with Edward aside, opting instead to focus on that moment last night when he'd run his fingertips lightly against my skin. I closed my eyes to call up a more perfect memory of the way he'd felt, and then, when I had sharpened my recall, I imagined that sensation going further. His fingers trailing not away from my body, but advancing along my neck, my shoulders, my breasts. My nipples tightened at the imaginary touch, and I opened my eyes to shut down my thoughts. The hope attached to that fantasy did not belong to me.

A few rogue hot tears rolled along the sides of my face and into my ears. The weeping soothed me, and with this unusual sedative I drifted into dreamless sleep.

* * *

**I fail at being a fast updater. How about I don't promise speed, and maybe then I can deliver? It's not that I'm not writing, I'm just not writing these chapters. I could publish what I'm writing, but the story would come out all wonky and out of order, and that won't do.**


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